


Burns like a Fire

by MaverickWerewolf



Series: Stargate Atlantis episode tie-ins/expansions/revisions/etc [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Bromance, Episode Related, Episode: s03e14 Tao of Rodney, Gen, POV Rodney McKay, Wraith feeding mark drama, just a random plotbun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23983240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaverickWerewolf/pseuds/MaverickWerewolf
Summary: In which Rodney actually does do something for John, too. Or, at least, he tries to.
Series: Stargate Atlantis episode tie-ins/expansions/revisions/etc [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097201
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	Burns like a Fire

**Author's Note:**

> I think about things like this every time I rewatch the series, even if it seems John's feeding mark fully healed, so I figured I'd write this energetic plotbun down despite probably twisting canon around my pinky in the process just because I love freaky Wraith crap.

“I think, in the grand scheme of things… we’re good, aren’t we?”

An incredibly rapid series of various emotions that Rodney was entirely no good at reading passed over Sheppard’s face in about a second or so, just before he halfway blurted, “Of course.”

That sounded honest, at least. But it didn’t make him feel a whole lot better.

So Rodney hauled himself to his feet and just stood there while Sheppard closed his laptop and set everything aside. After a moment’s hesitation, he abruptly sat down beside Sheppard on the bed and stared at him. Blinking, John turned to him and stared back. At least, until his eyebrows rode high on his face and he shrugged.

“Well this is weird,” Sheppard declared. He waved a hand in front of Rodney’s face. “You okay in there?” Trying to maintain that usual casual tone but managing to betray worry, he added, “I’d ask if you’re Ascending, but there’s no lightshow—”

“There’s one thing I’d like to do,” Rodney blurted before he thought about it too hard.

Sheppard waited. Then finally prompted, “Okay. What?”

“That… mark. The feeding mark on your chest.”

Instantly, in absolute record time that probably even clams couldn’t beat, Sheppard clammed up. But Rodney kept going.

“Did it ever heal?”

Sheppard’s face that had since turned serious turned even _more_ serious, a darkness passing over it, and he looked away from him. Down at the floor, where he stared briefly under a heavily furrowed brow – then winced ever so subtly and didn’t answer at all.

“I know you hate talking about it,” Rodney prattled on, trying not to let his voice quiver, “because you’re all… stoic and whatnot, but I can heal it.”

Sheppard sounded almost hoarse. “Since when?”

“I healed Ronon’s scars.”

Oops. He wasn’t actually going to tell anyone he did that. Why’d he say that?

That earned him one of those _look_ looks, a unique brand of slightly squinty-eyed looks of borderline suspicion that only Sheppard could truly manifest.

Then he said, “He let you get that close?”

Rodney sputtered briefly before managing, “Well, no, I mean, I kind of… forced it— anyway that’s not the _point_ , the point is I want to do this and are you going to freak out and go all PTSD on me if I touch your chest?”

He wasn’t trying to make light of the PTSD thing. Really, he wasn’t. But he was still trying to curb some of those asshole tendencies. It was much harder than it looked, thank you.

Either way, it didn’t get much of a reaction out of John. All he did was make an entirely different sort of Sheppard face, one of those abused animal sort of ones.

And he started, his voice low, “Rodney…”

He did it anyway. Scooting closer, Rodney reached up and pressed a hand right in the middle of Sheppard’s chest. Right where the Wraith had slammed its hand down to feed on him, during those feeding sessions he knew perfectly well neither he nor Rodney nor anyone else in the city ever wanted to think about again.

Which was exactly why he was doing this. No more sideways looks or those glances of pity whenever Sheppard had to get his shirt off in the infirmary – which was often, as disaster prone as he was – and no more Sheppard trying not to meet anyone’s eyes whenever that happened.

But the moment he touched him, Sheppard stiffened up. He was doing it, wasn’t he, he was freaking out – Rodney hated seeing _him_ freak out, he wasn’t supposed to freak out. That was Rodney’s job.

Still, he tried. Focused and tried to channel that same healing energy he had before. Ronon hadn’t even seemed to notice, so—

Sheppard sucked in a sudden, ragged gasp and went completely rigid. His hands shot up and gripped Rodney’s arm like steel vices, so hard Rodney almost yelped. Pain wrote itself across Sheppard’s face in a terrible grimace and a flash of white teeth. Before Rodney could pull his hand away, Sheppard cried out – a sound that chilled Rodney straight to the bone.

Making a fist and tugging his hand away, Rodney started sputtering like a faulty engine. Sheppard still violently squeezed his wrist so that his hand turned white. He didn’t seem all _there_ , not yet.

He’d done it, he’d screwed it all, he’d never ascend now and he’d die a miserable braindead vegetable because he’d tried to help his best friend and caused him pain, so much pain, _why had that hurt him?_

Rodney’s mouth flapped at a hundred miles an hour. “Oh God it wasn’t working, why wasn’t it working, it’s not supposed to _hurt—_ I’m so sorry what did I do _are you okay?!_ ”

It took a second, but Sheppard seemed to recover, sitting up a little straighter again and opening uncharacteristically reddened eyes. He gave Rodney a weak but genuine little smile.

“Guess the Wraith bite a little farther than skin deep,” Sheppard rasped, swallowing hard and blinking some tears from his eyes. He took a deep breath and looked very much like he was trying to find where his dignity had run off to.

For his part, though, Rodney was far too mortified to answer. He just kept staring, eyes wide as dinner plates. At least, until he started rambling again.

“Sheppard, I really didn’t think that’d happen, I—”

“Hey,” Sheppard interrupted softly, or at least as soft as his rough voice could get. It didn’t work – Rodney kept going, so he insisted, “Hey, _hey_. Rodney.”

Rodney finally shut up. Sheppard seemed to give him a minute.

This was terrible. Horrible, all of it. He was screwed, wasn’t he? Maybe the fear showed on his face – like it usually did – because Sheppard’s weak smile got ever so slightly more pronounced. Mostly in his eyes.

“I told you we’re good, Rodney,” he said. “I meant it. You don’t have to do anything for me.”

Rodney kept staring.

“But…” Sheppard paused just long enough to glance down and lick his lips before finishing quietly, “Thanks for trying.”


End file.
